The hand That Lifted The Hammer
by RileyAnora
Summary: Annika didn't go looking for trouble, not really. She never did. Trouble just seemed to find her. In this case, in the form of an extraterrestrial and his large hammer. His large hammer that she took a bet to pick up. His large hammer that she COULD pick up. Recently Annie's life could be summed up in just a few words. What. The. Hell?
1. Chapter 1

The Hand That lifted the hammer

"_Whoever holds this hammer, should they be worthy, shall hold the power of Thor."_

I rolled my eyes and sunk down into my seat further, sipping my bitter coffee with an equally bitter mood. The rednecks next to me would not. Shut. Up.

"Even Jameson couldn't pick it up!" Internally I scoffed, knowing that Jameson Brown was the finest our little hick community could produce. "He was so mad he kicked his car so hard it dented!"

This piqued my attention, if only minutely. Dented his beloved car? His baby? No way, it couldn't be true.

"He cussed enough to make my Grandaddy blush." I signaled the waitress, bored by the topic.

"Annie! Annie, c'mere!" Ah, lovely. I had been spotted.

Randy, aforementioned redneck, motioned me over to the table. I took a deep, slow breath. I could deal with this today, I could. Maybe even without a homicide charge.

"Yes?"

"Aww, don't be like that. You can't still be mad at me," he said, giving me dramatic puppy eyes. Oh yes. Yes I could. I took another deep breath.

"What do you want, Randall?"

1…2…3…4…

"Wellllll, me and Jason were wondering if you wanted to come with us to go see that hammer everyone's been talking about."

4…3…2…1…

I contemplated it. I really did. For just a second, I entertained the thought of going with my ex-boyfriend and his idiotic best friend to the middle of nowhere to see if we could pick up a hammer.

What has the world come to?

"No," I stated. Randy frowned a little, his understanding of the word limited.

"Please, Annie?" he pleaded, his face twisted into an unattractive pout.

"No."

"Por favor?"

"No."

"Por favor?"

"No."

"Por fa—"

"Dammit all to hell Randall Nile, shut the hell up!"

Randy scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. Be that way. I bet you couldn't have pulled it out of the ground anyway."

I froze, meeting Randy's eyes for the first time. He flinched, like he always did, and I smirked. "Was that a bet I heard?"

Randy sighed, rolling his eyes slightly and said, "Yes, it was a bet. Trust you to find a way to make this a bet."

So, that's how it happened. All because I can't resist a bet, I was currently riding in a truck with two moronic rednecks to go pull a hammer out of the ground. I knew I could do it. Okay, I _probably_ could do it, _even if _only just because I thought I could, if that makes any sense. It was times like this I wished I had my daddy's unwavering confidence that one couldn't help but admire.

We pulled over as soon as we saw it. I had to admit I was pretty impressed. It was a large hammer, and it was sunk into the ground. It had seemingly created a crater around itself. I watched in awe as a truck was literally ripped in half as it tried to lift the hammer out of the ground.

Randy slapped me on the back. "You sure about this bet?"

I slapped him back hard enough for him to stumble. "Never been so sure about anything," I said, which was a complete and utter lie. I was not sure. Not at all.

_Stop it. You can do it._

I shook myself, threw my shoulders back, and strode up to it. Hoots and hollers could be heard, and I responded with the one fingered salute. This was enough to shut them up for at least a while. I took a deep breath.

1…2…3…4…

I caressed the handle lovingly, almost jumping when it warmed beneath my fingers.

4...3…2…1…

"C'mon, sugar. I got you,"

1…2…3…4…

The air was still, and the crowd was silent. I wrapped my hands around the hammer, one finger at a time. I braced myself and dug my toes into the desert sand.

4…3…2…1…

"Ahhh!"

I lifted with all of my strength, heaving the hammer over my shoulder. I gasped and stumbled, my own strength surprising me. It wasn't even heavy! Maybe fifteen pounds, tops!  
_What the hell?_

The reaction was mixed. Some cheered, and most gasped. Others thought it was a fluke. Randall stood, open mouthed, not believing what had just happened. I gasped and stumbled as _something, _some powerful entity rushed through my veins, flooding my senses with warmth. I couldn't see it, but it was blue and white. I couldn't hear it, but it whispered my name. I couldn't feel it, but it felt like power. And it was mine, all mine.

"_Annika."_


	2. Chapter 2

I gripped the hammer in my hands tightly, holding it close to my chest on the ride home.

"I can't believe you actually did it! God knows how, but you did it!" Randy prattled on endlessly, annoying me to no end. Jason wouldn't get in the truck with us afterwards, accusing me of being evil, saying, "It's all because of that stupid mutant thing of yours,"

Oh yeah. I hadn't really mentioned that. So I'm a mutant. So what? It's not like I could do anything useful or cool. I couldn't do anything really. It was a minor mutation. The only thing noticeably weird about me was my eyes. One gold and one grey. I was a feral. A low power one. With minor abilities compared to some ferals I had heard of.

"Annie, was he right?" Randy's voce was low and serious now. "Is it really because you're a mutant that you could pull it out?" He spoke the word mutant tentatively, like someone with no knowledge of the topic. It was kind of taboo, I guess.

I hesitated, and my hammer—yeah _my _hammer, deal with it, bitch—warmed under my hands. "No," I said confidently, putting on a calm, cool, and collected face. "My mutation doesn't come with super strength. I'm just fast. Just a little. And I can hear and smell really well. That's all. Nothing like some folks can do."

Randy nodded excitedly, launching into a description of all the mutants he seen—well, more like heard of, but far be it from me to steal his thunder. Especially if the thunder kept him distracted for any extended amount of time.

Randy chattered excitedly, his eyes turning towards me to see if I had been paying attention. "…and he was flying! Really flying! Now, that was nothing compared to the guy who shot—"

I gasped and jerked the steering wheel sharply to the left, swerving to avoid hitting the RANDOM ASSHOLE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD! "Hey, dude, get out of the road! What the hell are you doing!?" I slammed the door as I got out, my anger obvious. He could have killed us! Or himself! But mostly us!

My fingers were cold without my hammer, and I flexed them uselessly. I stalked toward the blonde man, whoa, the _huge _blonde man, holy shit, the huge, bloody, muddy blonde man who looked suspiciously like a murderer. I shook myself of the sudden bitter taste of fear in my mouth that was crowding my hot anger, threatening to snuff it out like a flame. I continued forward, nursing the flames of my anger.

_After the week I've had, who the hell does this guy think he is? _

"Woman," the Mysterious-Man-Who-Looks-Suspiciously-Like-A-Murderer said. I shoved him out of the road and onto the sidewalk. I don't know who was more surprised when he stumbled, me or him. His brow furrowed, and he grabbed my wrist tightly. I scowled, turning my hands and throwing them down roughly, hoping to break his grip. I did. This time he just looked plain baffled. I momentarily forgot my anger, just long enough to take a mental picture of his face in that moment, committing it to memory so that I could sketch it later.

"Woman," the Mysterious—you know, that name is kinda wordy. So much so that I'm thinking about it and not listening to what he's saying. "…my hammer."

"Whoa, whoa, wait—I pulled _your _hammer out of the ground?" I asked.

Looking annoyed, the man nodded, saying, "I would like it back."

Ha, that's funny. I knew steroids made you strong, but that hammer ripped apart a truck. I don't know why, or how, but it chose me. Why should he get it? That hammer was _mine _now. Mine.

As if hearing my thoughts, the hammer flew into my hand which had instinctually opened just the right amount for it. The man looked at his hand which had flown into the air in a practiced motion that made me believe that my hammer had, at one time, been his.

"Yes, that's it. Its name is Mjolnir," the man stated quietly, "and I am Thor."

I snorted, asking skeptically, "Thor as in the god? Thor, as in Valhalla, and all that lovely stuff?"

Thor, I guess we're calling him now, seemed confused. "I—yes, I forgot that I was on Midgard. Now hand me my hammer."

I snorted. Yeah, right. Sure. "Okay, you can try." I shrugged and held Mjolnir out to him in one hand.

…

…

"Well? Are you going to take it or what?"

Thor fumbled for a bit, seeming a bit embarrassed. Finally, he reached out his hand and gripped the cool metal of Mjolnir. He tugged a bit. I raised an eyebrow. He tugged harder. I put a hand on my hip. He growled in frustration and I growled back, slightly irritated.

"Mortal, unhand my hammer!" His thundering voice grated my sensitive ears and I flinched away from him, snatching my hammer back to me. "My hammer now, asshole. Get over it."

Thor did not seem to take this well, as I had predicted. Obviously someone had never learned the whole 'Sharing is caring' thing. Must be an only child.

"No! The hammer is mine by birth right! I am Thor Odinson, heir to the throne of Asgard, wielder of the mighty Mjolnir, and I demand my hammer!"

I snorted in an unimpressed fashion, tracing the pattern on my hammer. "Oooh, pulling titles now, are we? Time to bring out the big guns," I leaned in as if to tell him an important secret. "I, Annika _freaking _Greyson, invoke the ancient law of—" I paused briefly—for dramatic effect of course, " Finders keepers, losers weepers."

I smirked smugly, rocking back on my heels. _Beat that. _

It seemed that wherever this Thor guy came from didn't have playground rules like finders keepers or nosies. Or if they did, he didn't seem to have any respect for them as he lunged forward in an attempt to grab my hammer.

"Whoa, whoa!" I shouted, dodging to the side swiftly. He lunged again, this time slightly to the left of where I actually was, trying to anticipate where I was going to move to.

I ducked and sort of fell into a summer salt, narrowly escaping large hands grabbing for me. I tried to rise but forgot to account for the giant hammer in my hands and ended up crab walking backwards. I kept low, hoping to keep him bent over and off balance. He pounced once more and I cursed as I felt his massive body brush my side as I log rolled out of the way.

I scrambled up, running into the woods, ignoring Randy honking the horn desperately. I heard the heavy footfalls of Thor behind me. _Okay, weigh the odds. He's a 160-180 pound mass of muscle with obvious previous training who's hell bent on getting your hammer. You are a 132 pound feral mutant who has been seriously neglecting fight training since her father died. Hmmm, wonder who has the advantage? _

My fathers voice brought me out of my thoughts. _**You know the woods better than anyone. **_Of course I did. But that didn't help the fact that he was gaining on me every second I wasted thinking. No time to think. Just react.

I pulled a sharp left, not stopping even though I heard the harsh thud of a body against something sturdy and solid. Probably the tree I just narrowly avoided. He was coming up behind me, disoriented. I couldn't beat him hand to hand. I couldn't keep up the pace I held long.

I growled, pushing myself forward harder, gaining momentum. I pumped my arms in time with my steps, my fingers almost grazing the ground. I pushed with my legs as hard as I could, propelling myself up and into a tree ahead. My sharpened nails gripped the tree as hard as I could, and I whimpered as slivers of wood made their way under my fingernails. Thor grabbed at the branches of the tree frantically.

I angrily shook my head, trying to hold back tears of pain. Freaking _ow. _I pulled myself to a higher branch, shaking my hands in a pained manner that really did nothing at all to help the burning pain. Thor wailed on the tree trunk and I gulped nervously. All this over a freaking hammer. Oh, shit. The hammer. I slammed my palm into my forehead, cursing myself. I growled uselessly, concentrating as hard as I could on that freaking trouble making hammer. I shook slightly as Thor gripped the first branch.

_C'mon, you frigger. _I felt my ears pop and I caught Mjolnir seconds before he smacked into my face. I also fell blindly on my butt in the same second.

"What in _Valhalla?!"_


End file.
